


Seven for a Secret Never to be Told

by Itch, VodkaKevin



Category: Supernatural
Genre: College!AU, Gabriel is a Little Shit, Gabriel is allergic to feelings, I cant think of anymore at the moment oops, M/M, Mentor Sam, Zachariah is a douche, drug mention, violence mention
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-29
Updated: 2016-01-29
Packaged: 2018-05-16 22:49:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5844028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itch/pseuds/Itch, https://archiveofourown.org/users/VodkaKevin/pseuds/VodkaKevin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Deeply troubled Gabriel Novak, whose history of being caught up in a world of mugging, theft and other petty crime for a drug ring run by his uncle Zachariah, finds himself struggling in the tempestuous world of college. In order to help, he is scheduled a weekly visit with a mentor, the recently graduated law student Sam Winchester, who is determined to fix even those who seem most broken.  As the weeks go by, the pair find they are slowly developing feelings for each other. But will their slowly blossoming relationship do more harm than good?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seven for a Secret Never to be Told

**Author's Note:**

> Wayup lads it's a new multichapter(er?)! :D  
> Asked Alice for the prompt, they slamdunked me this doozy and we decided screw tryna jam it into 2000 words, let's bring out the big guns on this baby!
> 
> I - Itch - am the one and only Gabriel~  
> Alice is my w o n d e r f u l Sam <3

  Gabriel Novak was, for all intents and purposes of the word, fucked. There he was, stood outside Room 27 of the Folber building, gathering up his nerves to meet his new ‘mentor’ at college. Mentor being ‘the guy who’s gonna sit there for the hour session telling him he’s stupid and he’ll fail his course if he doesn’t _blah blah blah_ ’ more often. He held his textbooks a little tighter to his chest as he checked his watch. He wouldn’t be expected for another 3 minutes, and even then he was sure the ‘mentor’ had been made aware of the fact he was chronically late to everything. So in reality, he wasn’t being expected for another ten minutes. 

 But Gabriel wanted to ‘Start Over a New Leaf’ and ‘Make the Most of His Time at College’ even if it killed him. Because he  _ wasn’t  _ Uncle Zachariah, and he refused to end up like the bastard. So, he grabbed his mental rulebook and set it on fire.

Raising his fist, he cocked his head an muttered “here goes nothing,” to himself before placing three solid knocks on the door.

~*~

  A thumping against the door permeated against the fringes of Sam Winchester’s’ consciousness. He turned on the spot, glancing at the door with a suddenly apprehensive look. When he’d accepted this job after graduating from this very same college last summer, he hadn’t quite anticipated the possibility that he was  _ genuinely responsible for other students;  _ that it was up to  _ him  _ to set troubled students on the straight and narrow. The title of ‘Mentor’ had initially made him think of guidance counsellors at summer camps, set in the backdrop of softly crackling fires and cheerful children singing. But here he was, situated in a tiny office, about to see his first student. He swallowed hard. No. He was Sam Winchester. He could  _ do  _ this. And as the president of the Student Union had said at the end of last year, “There’s no one else more appropriate for the job, Sam. You just… have a  _ way  _ with students. You’ve excelled at your job as Welfare Officer this year, and I think it’s time you made a career out of this.” And so, Sam inhaled deeply, feeling his shoulders swell. 

 “Come in!” he called. 

~*~

   Upon hearing permission to enter - fucking  _ permission to enter;  _ he could go where he damn wanted - he knocked the door open with his shoulder, striding into the room.

 “Holy shit you’re tall.” The words stumbled from his mouth before he could even think about them, hand clapping over his mouth in shock as if he could take them back that way. Unfortunately for him the hand he chose to hold over his stupid mouth was the one holding up his textbooks, and they crashed to the floor. “Oh fucking shit fuck.” he crouched down instantly, grabbing for his books and pretending he hadn’t just started blushing. What an introduction Gabriel, goob job. He flattened down a bent page of his notebook and sighed. Now he needed to stand back up and look the man in the eye and actually say  _ hello  _ rather than ‘holy shit you’re tall’. 

~*~

Sam watched as a butterscotch-haired,  _ literal trainwreck  _ of a human being managed to, within five seconds of entering, embarrass himself in at least three different ways. He felt his lips twitch into a smile slightly, but tried his best to hide it by filling his eyes with concern for the boy. Well - he said  _ boy -  _ this guy seemed to be roughly the same age as him, which was weird, considering the fact that he was a first year. He extended his hand to the guy - whose file dictated his name to be Gabriel Novak. 

 “I’m Sam Winchester,” he said, “I’m your mentor. You’re Gabriel, right?”

~*~

 “No, I’m Jesus Christ Superstar.” he snipped back, looking at the hand being extended to him like it was going to bite him. When he took the time to look up (and up and up) at the other’s - Sam’s - face, he didn’t find any ridicule from his embarrassing entrance there and he heaved yet another sigh.  _ Stop being a dick Gabe.  _ He cradled his textbooks in one arm and reached out, shaking Sam’s hand. “Yeah, yeah, I’m Gabriel. You’re my… mentor.” If he was honest, Sam didn’t look much older than him, how was this guy his mentor? Gabriel had a surprisingly firm grip for someone who seemed to be so keen to give off a somewhat frosty demeanour. 

~*~

Sam gave him a small smile, gesturing to office that might as well be a glorified cupboard when it came down to it. A couple of steps away were two chairs facing each other. 

 “Take a seat,” he said, turning and walking towards his desk. “Can I get you a drink of anything before we begin?”

~*~

 “Double on the rocks would be  _ fab  _ cupcake but I’m gonna take a guess and say that it’s against regulations for me to drink in here, so ‘m good thanks.” he fell into the chair closest to the door  _ \- easy access to get the fuck outta here if things go tits up  _ \- and he put his books in his lap. His finger wandered across the cover of the textbook, fiddling with the soft and beaten-up edge. He wasn’t usually a nervous man, but this was new and he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to hold himself or act.

~*~

Sam couldn’t help but smile to himself at Gabriel’s sass as he reached into the portable fridge he kept underneath the desk for a bottle of water. There was something strangely loveable about this guy - which was surprising, seeing as how difficult and irritating the report from his lecturers seemed to paint him to be. Gently closing the fridge and grabbing Gabriel’s file off the desk as he did, he slid into the other chair and looked the guy up and down. His tense physicality seemed to contrast against the way he spoke - as if he was trying to be nonchalant but somehow failing miserably. His eyes were darting around the room, as if unsure what to fix them on - so Sam concentrated on said whiskey-coloured orbs, hoping to establish some kind of eye contact here. This gaze was, as his brother Dean always put it, his  _ sad puppy  _ look. But it worked when it came to (hopefully) getting people to open up to him. 

 “So, Gabriel,” he said, eyes momentarily glancing down at the file before back to the student, “you’re okay if I call you Gabriel, right? Tell me about yourself. I’m assuming you were referred here for support with your studies and emotional well being for a reason, so in your own words, explain to me why you think you’re here.” 

~*~

 “Well.” Gabriel placed his books on the floor, leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees. “My mother died when I was about three, so I was raised by my dad, good man but couldn’t deal with 5 boys, so he sent a few of us to live with his brother, Uncle Zachariah. Uncle Zach… not a very nice man, got into a lot of business with drugs, mugging, theft, the main three y’know? Me being young, easily influenced and pretty got dragged into his whole mess when I was around 12 year old, was wedged in there. Took me till I was 22 to ‘unwedge’ myself, and then I decided a fresh start was needed, so I came to college.” As he spoke he looked at his hands, counting each item off the list as he did. “That’s my own words at least, I’m sure Uncle Zach has his own version of his criminal underworld and his,” he cleared his throat and mimicked a deep voice, “protégé,” he dropped the voice again with a breathy laugh. “But that’s probably why I’m here.”

~*~

  Sam regarded Gabriel Novak and felt a deep chuckle begin to resonate in his throat. Man, this guy  _ really  _ knew how to tell stories. 

 “So I guess that you’re the kind of guy who makes up a new persona every day?” he smiled, looking down at the notepad he’d already enclosed inside Gabriel’s file and starting to drag the pen idly across the page. He raised his eyes to Gabriel again. “Are you really too afraid to be yourself, Gabriel?” Because after all,  _ drug rings? Petty crime? Mugging?  _ There was no way this guy would be able to set a  _ foot  _ outside a detention centre if that was all true. 

~*~

Gabriel raised an eyebrow at him and started to laugh, leaning back in his chair and waving a hand dismissively. 

 “Damn right I am Sammich, can’t let anyone into my secret on who I actually am right?” he rubbed his nose with the back of his hand and folded his arms, debating how to answer Sam’s second question. Sure, this happened all the time. He’d tell the truth, no one would believe him because… who  _ would,  _ and then he would just laugh it off and revert back to the middle-class typical bringing up of 5 kids and a dog, living in a white picket fence house. “Of course I’m afraid to be myself, who isn’t afraid of their own psyche?” he examined his fingernails in a distinctly uninterested manner. 

~*~

  Sam looked back down at his pad, scrawling  _ ‘Who isn’t afraid of their own psyche?’  _ across it. 

 “Gabriel, do you suffer from any kind of mental health issues that you feel might stop you from attending all of your classes or completing all of your assignments?” As he spoke, he gestured with his pen. Sam had a habit of speaking with his hands, especially when he was slightly nervous, and this was definitely emerging around the Novak guy, he realised. He put it down to the fact that Gabriel was his first client and he was nervous about it. Still holding the pen, he scratched the back of his neck. Then he focused his attention back on Gabriel. 

~*~

Puffing out his cheeks in thought, Gabriel played with his bottom lip, squinting in the vague direction of Sam. Any mental health issues that might stop him from attending classes and completing his assignments. He could think of a few: the crippling fear he had sometimes because he thought if he left the house Uncle Zachariah would have found out where he was hiding and would be waiting for him outside. Did the hyper realistic nightmares about his uncle doing to him what he’d heard him command to have done to others count as a ‘mental health issue’?

 “Nah, healthy as a horse over here me.” He knocked on the side of his head, giving Sam a grin. Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed over there didn’t need to know that shit. He could  _ deal  _ with that later. 

~*~

Sam smiled back at Gabriel, but as he glanced back down at the guy’s file, felt his brow furrow in confusion. The guy didn’t seem to  _ have  _ any difficulties. So  _ why was it  _ that he had been referred to Sam for support with his studies? A few moments passed by. Was there something he was missing here? The file said nothing much really that would help - just that Gabriel was a first year student, that he was majoring in Drama and minoring in Psychology, and the initial impressions from his lectures was that he was  _ ‘Clever, but couldn’t concentrate… often seems to disappear inside his head.’  _

Gabriel Novak was  _ definitely  _ hiding something. But it seemed like it was going to take Sam a while to get to the bottom of it. 

 “How about your sleep patterns?” Sam said, “What do you do in your spare time? You live in halls right? How are you finding that?” It seemed that asking single, focused questions wasn’t uncovering the truth about the guy. It was time to fire in  _ all directions  _ until he could find something - just a small glimpse, of what was  _ really  _ going on here. Or.. maybe Gabriel was just playing him for a fool? Sam felt a small amount of ice slip into his blood. He couldn’t afford to let Gabriel ruin his chances of succeeding at his job. He  _ would  _ find the truth. He  _ would. _

~*~

 “My sleeping pattern is non-existent, I sleep between 15 and 2 hours a night depending on the day, the time, and my mood. Spare time, I paint, play the piano and get well-acquainted with my uh- right hand man so to speak. I do indeed live in halls, number 15 of the Heathermore building, small and sweet just like it’s inhabitant. Finding it to be so-so, bit lonely but I’ve looked after myself for years so the whole self-care thing isn’t much of a culture shock.” He relaxed back into the chair as he spoke, immensely enjoying telling Sam the truth and having him not believe it. 

~*~

Sam frowned, regarding Gabriel carefully. He was starting to wonder just  _ how much  _ of what Gabriel was telling him was  _ actually  _ a lie, and how much was the truth. Was this the life he led? Could he paint? Could he play the piano? Could he…  _ Better not think about the right hand man comment, actually.  _ Sam ducked his head, feeling a strange prickle of warmth settle across his cheeks. He swallowed again. 

 “Okay, so you don’t have a sleeping pattern,” he said, honing in on the only thing that he felt he could expand upon in this instance. “Do you find that that’s impacting on your studies? Are you keeping up with your reading? Do you find yourself studying in your spare time for fun, or do you find it a chore?” He smiled, feeling like he was  _ finally  _ starting to get somewhere with the guy. He didn’t seem to be suffering from anything mood-related, but perhaps he could suggest that Gabriel had some kind of personality disorder, given how he felt the need to hide behind various facades. Then again, he wasn’t a psychiatrist and he couldn’t jump to conclusions. He closed his eyes briefly and then opened them again. 

 “Have you noticed any lack of interest in your hobbies recently?” he said. His thoughts skittered over to Gabriel’s latter pastime again and he felt the prickle begin to rush over his cheeks again.  _ Fucksake _ . He repositioned himself in his chair.

~*~

  Gabriel hummed quietly at Sam’s questions. God this kid had a lot of fucking questions. 

 “Do I think it’s influencing my studies… maybe? I mean, I fell asleep in my consciousness lecture the other day, but it was a fucking  _ boring  _ lecture, so who can blame me y’know? I mean - talking about how consciousness monitors your mental events and the way it formulates your goals and finds ways to reach those goals--” his brain jumped from that thought to the rather bitter  _ you don’t wanna think about goals because you don’t have any  _ thought and he scowled at it, slamming the lid on that can of worms sharply shut. “-- yawn inducing.” He chewed on his bottom lip, thinking about the next answer.

 “I keep up with my reading fine, I read it in my spare time. Almost… soothing. Reading, that is. It’s not a chore, it’s just  _ reading  _ you feel? Sometimes I grab the book and like… rest it on my keyboard and play as I read, helps in a way. Associate the music to the words.” he shuffled a little at the talk of him playing the piano again. He enjoyed playing the piano, and he was pretty good at it, but it wasn’t something he spoke about much, a ‘girly’ hobby as dubbed by Uncle Z.

~*~

   Sam scribbled down more of what Gabriel was saying. Has hobbies. Eyes flickered up as Gabriel shifted a little in his chair as he began talking about playing the piano. _ Seems reluctant to admit that he enjoys some things? _ The question mark there was a thing that existed because you could never know with people like Gabriel. There was no telling what exactly he had told Sam that was the truth, and how much was just him fabricating stories. He  guessed time would just have to tell. It was frustrating, because Sam was someone who liked to figure out a problem quickly and efficiently, and give out a solution straight afterwards. That was the impression he’d wanted to give at this new job too. He smiled tightly and stood up. 

 “Well, that’s all I have to talk to you about today,” he said, “but if possible I’d like to see you next week?” He extended his hand again to Gabriel. It had barely been ten minutes, but he needed to think. Trust him to get a fucking enigma for his first student. 

~*~

Gabriel held his hand back out and shook Sam’s hand again, his smaller hand being swallowedin Sam’s larger one. It’d been a short session, not that he minded though. Sam was… nice but he didn’t like talking about himself to anyone, let alone this tryhard kid who was way too enthusiastic about his job.

 “Same place same time?” He questioned, waiting for Sam to nod before breaking into a bright smile, eyes crinkling along with it. “It’s a date.” he grabbed his books again, heading towards the door. “I’ll see ya then Sambo.” With a flamboyantly blown kiss, he skipped out the room. Thank  _ fuck  _ that was over. Time to go back to his room, curl up in bed and read through that script he’d been emailed and forget about the man - boy? - with the kind eyes and the serious voice. 

~*~

It took Sam a few moments to realise that he had been staring after Gabriel with a strange smile on his face. He closed the door and leaned against it, pushing the air out from between his lips. One student down, and he was going to be a  _ massive  _ fucking challenge. From what he could tell, he didn’t seem to want to tell the truth - and that was probably why he’d been referred by the doctor for mentoring. But if his stories and lies was exactly the reason  _ why,  _ how would Sam be able to unravel this, without knowing when Gabriel was telling the truth, and when he wasn’t? Sam sniffed, casting his eyes to the floor. He’d have to talk to Dean about this. Sure, his brother was terrible at his advice and reading people, but he’d give it a try. 

**Author's Note:**

> Like it love it hate it hate us doesn't matter come tell us on Tumblr!
> 
> Itch: synergygabriel / whodoesntlovesabriel  
> Alice: vodkakevin


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